


The Beginning

by Broba



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams, Homestuck
Genre: Crack Fic, Cracky, Kinkmeme, This Is STUPID, kimkmeme, kinkmeme what hath thou wrought, the unthinkable union of things not meant for the wit of man, very cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 19:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broba/pseuds/Broba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another randomly assigned kinkmeme prompt! Well now, how exactly did the Horrorterrors come to impose themselves on the otherwise serene and unsupposing Skaia? Let's ask The Guide.</p><p>Yes, That Guide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning

**-THE BEGINNING-**  
  
    In the beginning, the Universe was created.  
  
    This has made a lot of people mad and been widely regarded as a bad idea.  
  
    The Hitch-Hiker's Guide has, perforce, a somewhat wide definition of 'people' however. By the very nature of the infinitely varied multifarious nature of dimensionality, and the necessarily varied nature of the denizens of every dimension, when the Hitch-Hiker's Guide refers to 'people' it is safe to assume that this definition includes any number of horrific and un-nameable entities the very sight of which would cause the average ocular apparatus to explode out of sheer spite. The Hitch-Hiker's Guide goes on to define the emotional state of these entities in terms of being a little upset at the whole Universe idea when in fact the truth if written down would require a team of one thousand million blind, mad sculptors one thousand million years to carve the longest and most bitterly worded letter of complaint across the eldrich face of an infinite obsidian monolith.  
  
    Such beings exist, if they can be said to exist in any approximation of the way that you or indeed the Hitch-Hiker's Guide considers the term, outside of any respectable dimension where such niceties as Euclidean geometry are respected and thus any description would be entirely lacking and irrelevant*.  
  
    If these entities can be said to have any kind of a designation as a whole**, they are referred to generally as Horrorterrors, and they are not known for being amenable to good manners and local laws such as not ripping out the very mortal souls of every living being to slake an endless, nightmarish hunger. In short, when the Horrorterrors turn up it is generally considered to be a wise and apposite plan to leave the building immediately, and then burn the building, and then steer the entire planet into the sun while chanting the Hundred Nameless Names Of The Outer Kings backwards. It tends to save time.  
  
    The Horrorterrors are not only upset with the whole general way that things have turned out, in a cosmic sense, they also have several very pointed views on how things should be done better. In that respect their overall aims and methodology is identical to that of the East Kensington Women's Institute Rotary Club***. Long ago, before the first recorded word was ever uttered by a living, thinking creature, the Horrorterrors established that the Universe as it had been set up was horribly chaotic and frankly lacking in any kind of decent organisational structure. The only logical solution was to start the whole thing over again, preferably in a cosmic universal orgy of fire and destruction. The ire of the Horrorterrors was absolute and implacable, and aimed squarely and equally at every single square inch of existence equally****.  
  
    At the opposite ideological and physical end of reality sat Skaia. This entity, or entities, or item, or location, or all of the above is singular in nature where the Horrorterrors are legion. Skaia is  a force of pure untrammelled creation where the Horrorterrors exist only to erase from existence. Skaia is the one thing in the universe that, thought manipulation of it's various vortices and structures, can and did provide the Horrorterrors with what they wanted- namely, a means by which the Universe could be done away with altogether and remade in a manner that the Horrorterrors consider acceptable.  
  
    The means by which the matter was resolved are not simple to visualise without the aid of higher-dimensional geometrical senses that generally require all sorts of squishy antennae-like bits to work right for which reason most right thinking sentient beings lack them*****. Any description of what happened that is understandable in a real way would of course be a childish and ridiculous approximation of what actually went on, and it's probably best to bear that in mind and read the following while holding a Macroshrimp of Vortelax III in one's hand******.  
  
    Skaia was approached by a cohort of the most unspeakable and insanity-provoking Horrorterrors, all competing with each other and jostling for position to be the first to put the plan into action. There were three of them, according to the last account of Al-Achbad the Brutally Insane in his seminal work, “Things I Saw One Day And Then I Got A Headache.” The first of these cosmic voyagers, a writhing mass of tentacular goo made half out of gas and half out of raw magnetism, was called Hrothrolar Worldsballseater, and was known for great sagacity and a dreadful sense of humour. The second, He Who Is Under Thee, a conglomeration of every nightmare that plagues the sleep of children, was less smart but quicker, and more vicious. The third Horrorterror was Ms Emily Hortense Maddox-Soames of Oakridge Lane, East Kensington, chairperson of that borough's Women's Institute Rotary Club*******.  
  
    The three Horrorterrors fought brazenly for the right to be the one who would have the honour of penetrating the surface of Skaia and therein implanting the writing obsidian seed of the Horrorterror intellect, and in so doing be the one to have set in motion the catastrophic chain of events that was later to unfold. The battle was decisive and vicious, and would be written about extensively in the annals of mad prophets and visionaries, and also the letters page of the Sunday Telegraph.  
  
    He Who Is Under Thee fell quickly to the vicious, slaying techniques and mangling mind-rays of Ms Emily Hortense Maddox-Soames, however Hrothrolar Worldsballseater had gambled upon those ancient enemies seeking to settle their old scores before dealing with the task at hand. By the time Ms Emily Hortense Maddox-Soames floated victorious over the infinite river of madness and psychosis let loose by the violent exploding of He Who Is Under Thee, the matter of Skaia was already in hand. Or, to be more accurate, in combined gaseo-magnetic tentacle\gripping claw. Skaia found itself being penetrated most rudely by the wildest accumulation of thrusting, prodding, probing organs that was ever deployed by a galaxy-spanning nightmare horror from beyond all reason. The act itself was equally violent and rent three entire realities in half with the frenzied mating cries of  Hrothrolar Worldsballseater.  
  
    The plan of the Horrorterrors being complete, it was only a matter of time before things unfolded in the manner that had been planned from the start, leading directly through a convoluted and frankly ridiculous sequence of cause-and-predestination that could only possibly have come from the collective minds of beings so far outside of all rationality that they still think the combination of open toed sandals and socks have something to be said for them. After the fruit of that union between Skaia and abomination from beyond the dimensions had bounced back and forth along its' own paradoxical timeline through a series of what can only be described as shenanigans, a disk for the beta-version of a brand new game was dutifully delivered to a young boy on his thirteenth birthday.  
  
 **-THE END-**  
  
  
  
  
*If it helps, try to imagine a mass of oysters turning themselves inside out while screaming with the voices of a chorus of jelly-mouthed spiders. Then imagine the mass is quite upset with you.  
  
**They can't.  
  
***In that the East Kensington Women's Institute Rotary Club has yet to crush even a single ancient civilisation beneath the crushing weight of infinite cosmic inevitability, it is not for want of trying. Their collective letter to the editor of the Sunday Telegraph, issued once per week without fail, are documents held in rare dread among the press.  
  
****Again, in tune with the overall attitude of the East Kensington Women's Institute Rotary Club.  
  
*****That sort of thing makes buying hats a nightmare, for a start.  
  
******It is worth pointing out to the uninitiated that the highly prized and noble Macroshrimp of Vortelax III is one of the most remarkable and useful creatures ever discovered. Due to the evolutionarily improbable action of a psychic field producing gland in their second stomach, the Macroshrimp is able to produce a sense of serene and all-encompassing calm in the mind of any sentient being that strokes their little bellies. This ability to entirely calm and mentally satiate anything that touches them means that the Macroshrimp has no natural enemies and lives in a state of utter peace and bliss, which makes one almost forgive the fact that they are mean-spirited vicious little racist bastards.  
  
*******Told you so.


End file.
